by S. H. Jucha
“Dingles, your skins have the Marianne and the Spryte on the back. So, you worked for Captains Rose and Cinders?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was on the crew of the Marianne with Captain Rose when he brought the boy aboard.”
“You met Jessie Cinders when he was a boy?” Harbour asked, intrigued by this turn in the conversation.
“Yes, ma’am, but he wasn’t Jessie Cinders then, just Jessie.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You won’t find any records for Jessie Cinders in the JOS personnel databases until the boy went to the spacer training program so that he could hold a mate’s position. Jessie’s parents and a bunch of others were killed in a terrible decompression accident while they were building a new terminal arm. The boy was an only child and traumatized from losing his parents. He didn’t speak for more than a year, and the only reason anyone knew his first name was it was stitched, real nice-like, on his collar.”
“How about DNA sampling to match him to his parents?”
“I imagine they tried, but, back then, a lot of station workers and spacers weren’t registered. Now it’s mandatory.”
“Then how did Jessie get the last name Cinders?”
Dingles got a big smile on his face and started to chuckle.
“I suppose it’s not a family name or something like that,” Harbour said, smiling in return.
“Hardly, ma’am. When Jessie was a teen, he was working the ore hold with another young crew member. The Marianne, or Annie as the crew calls her, was still using the old method of scooping mineral dust from the surface and shooting it into a bay. A leveler, which traveled back and forth across the hold, was used to distribute the dust. Jessie’s companion leaned too far out on the perch, and his safety line released. He fell into the dust, as the leveler was passing, and it buried him.
“Oh, for the love of Pyre,” Harbour whispered, her hand to her mouth.
Dingles eyebrows rose in agreement with Harbour. He was in his element, telling old spacer stories and surrounded by lifelong friends.
“Well, Jessie hit the intercom, screamed for help, released the brake on his safety line, and dove in after his crewmate. The crew used Jessie’s safety line to pull the two boys out. They were covered head to toe in dark, clinging ore cinders, and you couldn’t tell them apart. Both were retching dust from their mouths and lungs. What was ironic was the young man Jessie saved had teased and tortured him since the day he came aboard the Annie, and yet Jessie hadn’t hesitated to jump in to save his life.”
Dingles smiled at the memories of that day. “Captain Rose eyed Jessie, shook his head at him, and said, “All cinders and courage, and no brains.”
They were interrupted, while a server delivered their water and lunch specials. The food smelled wonderful to Harbour, and she heard their stomachs grumble. She dug into her plate, and between bites she warned Dingles, punctuating her statement with her fork, “Don’t you dare touch your food until you finish the story.”
“Not much more to tell, ma’am,” Dingles said, chuckling about the threat. “Captain Rose told his first mate to check the safety lines, and ordered the boys to clean up. As Jessie told me years later, Captain Rose reprimanded him for diving in after his crewmate, telling him that it was a foolhardy thing to do, but I know the captain admired the boy’s selflessness. After that episode, the crew started addressing Jessie as Cinders.”
“What was it like to work for Captain Cinders?”
“It was tough in the beginning, and, mind you, at the time, I wasn’t a newbie. The captain asked for your best, every time. That can grind some people down, if you can’t rise to the occasion, but, if you succeed, it can make you mighty proud to be a member of his crew.”
“So how is it that you got into trouble stationside, Dingles?”
“It wasn’t the captain’s fault. He was real generous with me … gave me rent for six months and severance pay. I blew it, ma’am. Squandered coin like a newbie on his first downtime, messed with a shop owner, and then I screwed up by pushing that little piece of space dirt, Terror.” Before Dingles could say anymore, he grinned and threw his arms in the air.
Behind Harbour, she heard a woman’s deep voice say, “Well, look who’s out of confinement and having lunch with a hot coin-kitty.”
“I’ve been called many things, but coin-kitty is a first,” Harbour said, as the woman and her friends drew abreast of the table.
“Oh, call me a piece of waste … I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Ituau said, when she realized who was sitting across from Dingles.
“Harbour, this loud-mouthed woman is Ituau Tulafono, first mate of the Spryte. The scruffy looking one next to her is Nate Mikado, second mate, and that slip of a spacer on the end there is Jeremy Kinsman, navigator. Hey, Jeremy, you newbie, how come you can afford a hot new pair of skins?”
“Hook on, spacer,” Ituau said.
“Aye, latched on,” Dingles replied.
Harbour didn’t understand the lingo, but the intent was clear, as were the emotional shifts. Dingles had inadvertently touched on some point he shouldn’t have. Ituau had warned him off, and he’d received the message.
“How are you out, Dingles?” Ituau asked, with concern.
“I’m going to work out my sentence for Harbour on the Belle,” Dingles replied proudly.
“That right?” Ituau commented, and her gaze shifted to Harbour. “Thanks, ma’am,” she said, offering her hand to Harbour.
To Harbour’s surprise, each spacer shook hands with her. The majority of normals avoided contact with empaths, unless they were clients, and then only during their sessions. Then it clicked for Harbour. This crew was already familiar with one empath, a young girl by the name of Aurelia.
The Spryte’s crew followed Maggie to a far table in the crowded cantina, and Harbour and Dingles returned to their meal. Harbour was happy to see Dingles’ appetite restored.
“Keep going, Dingles. Jessie uses the name of Cinders when he registers for space training. I imagine he was an excellent student, being raised on shipboard.”
Dingles laughed so hard he started choking on a mouthful of food, and he raised a hand to everyone to indicate he would be all right and slugged down some water to clear his throat.
“He was a terrible student, ma’am,” Dingles replied, when he could regain his breath. “Captain Rose had to intervene several times to prevent him from being thrown out. The instructors claimed his argumentative attitude prevented him from learning the subjects, and Jessie accumulated several disciplinary reprimands in his file.”
“What happened?”
“Captain Rose challenged the lead instructor. He proposed that if Cinders could pass the practical, then he could remain in the program, and the woman was happy to accept. I believe she was fairly certain Jessie didn’t stand a chance.”
“And?” Harbour urged, when Dingles paused. The retired spacer was enjoying the opportunity to spin tales for an attentive audience.
“He failed.”
“Not possible.”
“Yes, ma’am, it was, according to the instructor. But, see, they run vids on these practicals, so the students can review their errors. Captain Rose looked over the test with the instructor, and she pointed out to him all the places where she said Jessie failed. The story goes that the captain laughed so hard he tipped over backward in his chair.”
“What happened? Did he fail, or didn’t he?”
“It seems the program was primarily taking newbies from the station and teaching courses they designed a long time ago. Things change, equipment changes, and ships have new designs. Jessie was trained in the latest techniques and on the latest equipment.”
“So how did Captain Rose settle the argument?”
“He brought in three other captains to review the practical. Every one of them said he passed, and, not only passed, but thought the boy made a damn fine spacer.” Dingles smiled at Harbour, pleased to tell a story about a man he admired.
They finished eating their meal in silence, each left to their private thoughts. Dingles was curious as to why Harbour, of all people, was so interested in the captain. Harbour was thinking about the men and the women in the Miners’ Pit, sharing meals and camaraderie, despite the hardships they had suffered before and would again.
Dingles was leaning back in his chair, patting a full stomach, when he leapt to attention.
“Rest easy, you old reprobate, before you fall over,” Harbour heard a familiar voice say.
Captain Cinders wrapped his arms around Dingles and slapped him heartily on the back. Harbour thought the spacer was close to tears.
“Captain, you know Harbour, I take it?”
“From our monthly meetings, of course,” Jessie said smoothly. “How are you, Harbour?”
“Quite fine, Captain Cinders. Discovering places on station that I never knew existed, listening to wonderful stories, and discovering a part of Pyre unknown to me.”
“Sounds like you’ve been busy.”
“You have no idea, Captain Cinders,” Harbour said, smiling brightly at Jessie. She could sense a small spike of anxiety from him.
“Dingles, can I take it that you’re sitting here with Harbour because you’ve been released into her custody?”
“Yes, sir, be aboard the Belle’s shuttle when she undocks.”
“That’s good, Dingles. I’m pleased to hear that. How you feeling?”
“Much better, Captain. Harbour helped me with my problem over in security administration. She says I’ll get regular attention from the empaths.”
From Jessie’s perspective, Dingles resembled his old self. He laid a hand on the spacer’s shoulder to indicate he should take a seat. “I’m grateful for your help with Dingles,” Jessie said to Harbour and extended his hand.
“It’s my pleasure,” Harbour replied, accepting the handshake. Warm, deep sentiments flowed into her, and she held the captain’s hand a little longer than was usual to bask in the pleasant sensation.
“You keep your head on straight, navigator,” Jessie remarked to Dingles. He touched the brim of his cap to Harbour and sauntered over to join his crew for lunch.
“Before we go, Dingles, I’d like to have a word with the hostess. Ask her to join us?”
Harbour expected a decorous invitation from Dingles, while he was face-to-face with Maggie. Instead, the spacer blew a two-tone whistle, which everyone ignored but Maggie, who hurried over to the table.
“Trouble, Dingles?” asked Maggie, a frown on her face.
“Harbour wants a word, Maggie. Take a seat.”
“My apologies, Maggie,” Harbour said, as the woman sat down. “I wasn’t aware that Dingles would get your attention in that manner. He and I will have a discussion on the subject later.”
Maggie cut her eyes at Dingles. “Spacers,” she said. “They’re not known for their manners. How can I help you, ma’am?”
“Dingles tells me that there are a good number of spacers who visit the Miners’ Pit and are suffering from emotional issues.
“That’s true.”
“Do you have access to the schedule of the commandant’s monthly council meetings?”
“Sure do.”
“I’d like you to line up the ten spacers most in need of this type of help. Have them meet me here before eleven hours, and I’ll transport them to the Belle for the afternoon.”
“Ma’am, the spacers don’t have the coin for your sensitives.”
“There’ll be no charge, Maggie, and I want you to know this is only a test. It might not work out, so don’t make a big deal of it.”
“Even if it’s just one time, ma’am, these people will appreciate whatever you can do for them.” Maggie extended her real hand, and Harbour received the same warm appreciation as she had received from the captain. I’ve been dealing too long with wealthy stationers and downsiders, Harbour thought.
“You ready to go, Dingles?” Harbour asked, after Maggie returned to her post at the Miners’ Pit front door.
“Ready to undock when you are, ma’am,” Dingles replied. He stood, and, with one motion, he waved Harbour to the exit with his cap, which ended on his head. The lunch crowd broke out in loud whistles, yells, and applause. Dingles half turned and touched his fingers to his cap in acknowledgment. Harbour could sense the pride rolling off the old spacer.
Why is it that the people who risk the most to build our world are those least cared for in retirement by the very people who benefited from their efforts? Harbour thought.
At the shuttle, Harbour boarded first and Dingles followed. Harbour took her customary seat after slipping on her thermal coat.
“Who’s the pilot, ma’am?” Dingles asked.
“Danny Thompson. Know him?”
“Oh, yeah,” Dingles replied, grinning. He made his way to the forward cabin. The hatch was open, and Dingles shouted, “So what piece of space dirt thinks he can fly this ship?” He threw a grin at Harbour, and she shook her head, smiling at the ex-navigator’s antics.
“Dingles, don’t tell me you’ve been rescued,” Danny said, emerging from the pilot’s cabin. “Harbour, I’m telling you this one is trouble. Throw him back before it’s too late.”
“Sorry, Danny, we’re past that point. Guess we’ll have to make the best of it.” Harbour was enjoying their exchange, including the way the two spacers buoyed each other’s spirits.
“Sorry to hear what happened to you, Dingles,” Danny said, turning serious.
“Yeah, well, I knew better than to antagonize Terror, but I wasn’t feeling too good.”
“Don’t you worry, Dingles, you’ll be okay while you’re aboard the Belle,” said Danny, and leaned close to whisper, “Has Harbour given you any, you know?” He signaled by pointing his finger at Dingles’ head, then his own.
“Yeah, in security’s interview room,” Dingles whispered back. “I never felt anything like that in my life. I think if a man had that every day, he’d enter dreamland and never want to come out of it.”
Danny laughed and slapped Dingles on the shoulder. “Get strapped in, you old spacer, we’re about ready to take off.”
Dingles made his way to the main cabin, saw where Harbour was seated, picked up his duffel, and sought a seat several rows behind her.
“Did I suddenly become ugly, Dingles?” Harbour asked, as the spacer passed her by.
“Begging your pardon, ma’am?” Dingles said, stopping in the aisle.
“There’s no one else aboard this shuttle but you and me, and there’s a spare seat next to me.”
“Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t want to inconvenience you.”
“Your manners are appreciated, Dingles, but, if you care to share more stories of Captain Cinders, I’d like to hear them.”
“That would be a pleasure,” Dingles replied.
While the spacer stowed his duffel in a bin and settled next to Harbour, it occurred to her that she was accumulating a team of experienced spacers — pilot, navigator, engineers, and techs — and she wondered what might be the possibilities for the Belle with the help of these people.
-11-
Anxieties
Captain Hastings called his first mate, Angelina Mendoza, into his cabin. The Pearl had undocked from the YIPS after unloading her tanks and was making for a rendezvous with the Annie, before she set sail for Triton.
“Angie, our orders are to train Rules to be a qualified spacer,” Leonard said, after she sat down at his table. “No designated specialty yet.”
“You want us to turn a downsider into a spacer?” Angelina asked dubiously.
“I don’t … Captain Cinders does.”
“But, Captain, what if she doesn’t like the training or the trainer, and she does that you know what?” Angelina protested, pointing a finger at each of their heads.
“Well, we do have a choice,” Leonard replied good-naturedly.
“I like choices.”
“Okay, we can either annoy a sixteen-year-old empath or
Captain Cinders. Which would you prefer?”
“I say we risk it with Rules.”
“Good choice, Angie.”
“I’ll start her training immediately.”
“Belay that, Angie. I want Belinda on the vac suit work. Let her know that Rules is required to get a rating from you at training’s end.”
“Captain, that’s either incredibly wily of you or suicidal, I’m not sure which.” When the captain merely smiled at her, Angelina excused herself to share the news with Belinda.
“Why me?” Belinda protested, when the first mate broke the news to her. “We’ve got a freighter full of qualified spacers who could teach Rules the ABCs of vac suits.”
“Captain’s orders,” Angelina replied. “And this isn’t to be some sort of pretend. Rules must pass a rating’s exam at the end of her training.”
“Angie —” Belinda started to object.
“Don’t Angie me, Kilmer. You have your orders.”
“Aye, aye,” Belinda replied sullenly. It crossed her mind that if something went wrong with the training and the empath decided to take revenge, the captain wouldn’t have to set her on station, which was Belinda’s present course.
* * *
Early the next morning, Aurelia waited anxiously for Belinda to arrive at the vac suit room. The thought of beginning spacer training excited her. She was ready to embrace anything that supported an independent, free life.
“Morning, Rules,” said Belinda, by way of greeting. “Let me tell you how this goes. I’m going to take you through the basic procedures of a vac suit … commands, operations, maintenance, and emergency drills. I train you, and First Mate Mendoza will test you. You do well; I look good. You screw up your practicals; I look bad. You read me?”
“Your instructions are clear, Third Mate Kilmer.”
Belinda shook her head, and Aurelia could sense the woman’s exasperation and something else that resembled anxiety. “Rules, if a command or instruction is clear to you, you say aye, copy, or understood. If you’re about to jump into action you can say aye, aye. And another thing, newbie, you’re not a member of this crew. To you, I’m Belinda.”
